No Such Luck
by Yellowfur
Summary: Massie peeked out the window again, her freshly manicured nails resting on the glass of the window, chilled by the November air. This time, she was checking the driveway to see if her father was home yet. No such luck. Thanksgiving themed oneshot, late!


**Disclaimer: I do not own "The Clique".**

**This is a Thanksgiving-themed oneshot, Massic-centric. I know it's kinda late for Thanksgiving, sorry!

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**HOLAGURRL: Oh, sorry. gotta go. dinnertime. :)**

**HOLAGURRL has signed off **

Massie watched as her last friend online signed off. A couple hours ago, she had been talking to the entire Pretty Committee, then one by one they left to go eat the once-a-year feast traditional to Thanksgiving. Dylan was the first. She had probably signed off a little early, but she was the one most looking forward to the food. Then Kristen signed off. Her parents had been saving up and been even more penny-pinching than usual (Massie barely thought it was possible) so they could have a good Thanksgiving, just their own little family having a quiet turkey dinner. Claire signed off right before Alicia. Looking out the window, Massie could see part of Claire's kitchen in Massie's guesthouse. All she saw was the back of Claire's head, but she could tell they were happy, probably because of the way Claire bobbed her blonde head a bit when she laughed. Even Alicia's dad, a hardworking lawyer, made sure to take the day off. Alicia's grandmother and cousins from Spain came to have an American Thanksgiving meal.

This left Massie.

Massie peeked out the window again, her freshly manicured nails resting on the glass of the window, chilled by the November air. This time, she was checking the driveway to see if her father was home yet. No such luck. Now she checked the clock on her computer. 6:59 PM, it read.

Giving a frustrated sigh, Massie stepped out of the white computer chair and looked at herself in front of the mirror. The outfit was a gold sequin accented Guess camisole and black jeans. Normally Massie reserved nicer outfits for people she had to make a good impression on or for people she was trying to make jealous of her (same thing, really). But she figured tonight was a bit of a special occasion, and besides, her parents would appreciate the gesture. If her dad was there to _see_ the outfit in the first place.

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She checked her clock again… 7:46 PM. Massie left her room and went immediately towards the stairs. Pleasant smells drifted up the stairs and around her; butter-basted turkey roasting, spicy pumpkin pie (freshly baked), sautéed chopped onions and celery in the stuffing. When Massie had walked through the delightful medley of smells towards the dining room, she looked at in all its glory.

The turkey was in the center of the table. Surrounding it were plates of typical Thanksgiving dishes. The classics, mashed potatoes, green beans, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, cranberry sauce, and gravy. Three lone place settings of untouched white porcelain plates, glasses, and fancier silverware with swirl patterns engraved on them. All that was missing was the family to eat the food.

Massie heard the door opening and closing. She whipped her head around to see if it was her father, considering the running-into-hug thing she used to do when she was a little kid when her father would come home. But she realized it was only Inez, the live-in housekeeper, taking the rest of the night off and going to visit loved ones. After making Thanksgiving dinner and cleaning up afterward for the Blocks, she probably had her own feast to go to, evident in that she probably went well over the speed limit when in her car.

Massie turned back to the turkey on the table. Its skin glistened under the chandelier. Massie slowly stepped towards it. She reached her hand out and, hesitant because of the layer of buttery grease on the skin, she touched the bird. It was warm. Not hot, like an entrée should be. She could probably keep her hand on it for an extended period of time (should her gag reflex permit this) without the temperature being a problem. It was not steaming, as she typically pictured fresh-out-of-the-oven turkeys.

It was just warm.

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Now it was a little past eight. Massie was only mildly worried about her father and was angrier at him than worried for him. She might spend a little more time worrying about him if she wasn't already worrying about her night. The brunette masked her feelings of frustration and strode in her usual blasé-but-with-a-purpose fashion towards her parents' bedroom upstairs. She heard Kendra's voice through the door; she was on the telephone. Before she could knock on the white double doors, Kendra opened them.

"That was your father on the phone. Something happened at the office. He's been delayed for a very long time… he won't get back for a few hours."

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Massie hurriedly pressed her nose to her cool window and looked down at the Lyons' abode. Was it too late to invite herself over for their dinner, to salvage a bit of Thanksgiving night? How could they say no? It was just as much Massie's house as ti was theirs. Besides, Claire wouldn't let her parents say no…

She squinted to see how they were coming along with their dinner. If there were any mashed potatoes left, she figured that would've been okay timing.

But no such luck. She could only see Claire digging into a piece of pie that was disappearing before Massie's eyes. Claire laughed at something her parents or her brother must've said.

And they had vanilla ice cream, too.

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Massie Block sat with perfect posture, just the way Kendra had taught her before she entered Kindergarten. When she was a child, Massie resented having to be told, "Massie, sit up straight!" in front of other people, but now she realized it came in handy.

She also thought her calm smile completed the look. Massie had perfected this smile for adult-type gatherings, one that made her look in control, involved, and confident without being smug.

She sliced the now cold turkey, severing the unwanted, unhealthy yet tasty (so she left just a wee bit) skin with the engraved knife. _Martha Steward can't hold silverware better_, she thought with a giggle.

Massie ate a forkful of the stuffing. _Oh, this is so worth the carbs. _Oops! A little gravy dribbled down her chin. No matter. She simply used her napkin to dab it away. So long as she took care of it in a quick and inconspicuous manner, her etiquette was still unblemished. Massie even (get this!) put her cell phone away in her room for the evening.

The cold potatoes had practically developed a cold, stiff skin-like outer coat of dried potato because they had been sitting for over two hours. Massie must not have noticed that, but she did notice that they had just the right amount of salt and pepper mixed in, even though she hadn't had mashed potatoes in a while.

Yes, there Massie sat, eating her food with the best manners you could expect a young lady like herself to have. And for once, Massie sent her usual rules about carbs or sugars out the window for this once-a-year night. A pity though, that no one was there to witness that. Kendra Block had found a substitute dinner and retired to her room for the night afterwards.

William Block was still not home.

And at 10:10 PM, on Thanksgiving, at the head of the elegant oak table in the Blocks' dining room, Massie ate and sat alone, with nothing to do but eat more and wonder if Christmas will be the same.

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End file.
